


Forgotten Lullaby

by LadyWallace



Series: Forgotten Lullaby Collection [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley stop them, Brave kids, Gen, Hurt Crowley, Lots of Symbolism, Music, Protective Aziraphale, Set a long time after canon, and suffer the consequences, but you can decide for yourself, crowley & aziraphale friendship, heaven and hell have plans, worried/desperate Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: It's been many years since Aziraphale and Crowley stopped the apocalypse but both Heaven and Hell are looking for round two and they're not going to let these two get in the way again. When they set a trap, kidnapping the child who is destined to stop WWIII it's everything Crowley and Aziraphale can do to stay together and get out alive. (Gen)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Forgotten Lullaby Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914820
Comments: 42
Kudos: 278
Collections: Amazing Good Omens, Beautiful and Stunning Good Omens Fics, Favorite GO Fics, treasured





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cafelatte100](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cafelatte100/gifts).



> For Cafelatte100 I hope you enjoy this one and that it's what you were looking for ^_^
> 
> (Part two will be posted Sunday)

Crowley stared at the wreckage, hands in his pockets. He shivered against something that wasn't a physical chill, but instead was a feeling that went a lot deeper.

This one had been close. In fact, he and Aziraphale had barely heard about the hit going down in time, but when Heaven was this serious about something, they didn't mess around.

Things had been stirring up lately, and Crowley didn't like where any of it was going. It had been a few decades now since he and Aziraphale had stopped the apocalypse from happening, and for the most part, things had been quiet. After the initial tremors had passed, Heaven had Hell had seemed to retreat back to their respective corners and mostly stayed out of everyone's business.

Until recently.

Crowley shivered again, hunching his back against the feeling. No, he didn't like what he smelled on the horizon at all.

He caught sight of the angel who was over by an ambulance, his hand on a woman's shoulder, a young girl sitting on the back of the ambulance cradled in her arms.

Just looking at the girl make the hairs on the back of Crowley's neck stand up for inexplicable reasons. He just had this feeling…of course they would have stopped a school bus from getting into a terrible accident anyway, he and Aziraphale always tried to save as many kids as they could, but he couldn't help but feel that this time, it had all been for more than just the usual reasons, and for this girl, Emily Carlisle, in particular.

He still vividly recalled her face looking out the window as if she knew what was coming. Before the semi that was supposed to hit the bus was diverted by Crowley's own demonic miracle and the bus only suffered minor damage compared to what could have happened, all the kids making it out alive with nothing but a few cuts and bruises.

He shook himself and straightened as Aziraphale returned to his side. The angel's face was oddly pale, and Crowley gave him a double look.

"What is it?" he asked.

Aziraphale shook his head slightly. "I can't tell for certain. I just feel that there's something…different about this entire situation. That girl…"

"I felt it too," Crowley said quickly and Aziraphale glanced up at him in surprise. "What do you think it means?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Aziraphale murmured. "But I think we need to try and figure it out."

They left the scene, walking shoulder to shoulder as they did, both of them abnormally quiet.

As they got to the Bentley, Aziraphale opened the passenger side door but didn't get inside. Instead, he looked up toward the gathering clouds that foretold of an inevitable storm. "Can you feel it too?" he asked quietly as if in answer to Crowley's inquiring look. "Stirrings in Heaven, I'm sure of it."

Crowley felt his stomach twist, but couldn't deny it. Even now, under his feet, he could feel an almost psychic rumbling from the depths of Hell. Even years of being away hadn't changed that subconscious connection in him.

"Yeah," he muttered darkly. "I feel it." He got into the car and Aziraphale reluctantly got in as well, shutting the door. "This is very bad, angel."

"I fear it is," Aziraphale said. "You know, I have this feeling that stopping that bus today messed about with something…cosmic. That girl…there's just something about her that I can't quite put my finger on."

Crowley started the engine with a snap of his fingers and pulled into the traffic, eyeing the gathering storm. "That's what was worrying me too."

"You don't think this is…er… _It_ , do you?" Aziraphale asked cautiously.

Crowley shot him a look. "It? What do you mean ' _It_ '?"

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"But we…"

"We both know _that_ wasn't really _IT_ ," Aziraphale emphasized and sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "You've seen everything that's been happening lately, there are stirrings again. Perhaps not strictly apocalyptic, but definitely some precursors. War is on the horizon, regardless of whether it's between humans or Heaven and Hell."

"So, I suppose the question is: did we manage to stop it by saving that bus today, or start it?" Crowley asked, hating himself as he bit out the last query.

"I don't know," Aziraphale said softly. "And I truly shudder to find out the truth."

Crowley sighed and slapped the wheel angrily. "Just when things were starting to work out for the better too. Why is that always my luck?"

_~~~~~~~_

_Gabriel landed in the park_ and, frowning, instantly miracled a barrier around himself so that the rain didn't fall on him. His expression darkened as the second party to this meeting appeared, pushing out of the ground like some terrible root.

"Duke Hastur," Gabriel sniffed.

"Gabriel," the demon returned with a sneer. "You called me."

"Yes, it's about the plan. I thought you said it was to be finished today?"

"The bus was scheduled to crash an hour ago," Hastur snipped. "Check your watch."

Gabriel glowered. "It did, but the children are still alive."

"Impossible!" Hastur snapped. "You told me the deaths were destined! We both made sure of it!"

"Then what happened?" Gabriel demanded.

Hastur opened his mouth, then bared his teeth in fury, hands clenching into fists. Gabriel took a small step back in disgust, afraid the fiend would start spewing fluids.

"Damn him!" Hastur growled. "If this was stopped, I think we both have an idea of who would be so stupid as to do such a thing."

Gabriel thought for a second before the answer became clear. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it already. "Of course," he murmured darkly. "You think this was Crowley and Aziraphale's work."

"It could only be those two meddling bastards!" Hastur snapped. "We should have done away with them long ago."

"We should have," Gabriel had to agree. "But it's not too late for that. There's still time to rectify this entire situation before the future is irreparably damaged."

Hastur looked at him with evil curiosity as Gabriel said, "Help me set a trap for them and we can do away with all our problems all at once."

A wicked grin spread across Hastur's face.

_~~~~~~~_

_Aziraphale jumped from_ a clap of thunder, the teacup he was carrying rattling against the saucer threateningly.

Crowley eyed him from where he was sitting on the couch in the bookshop's back room. "Bit jumpy?" the demon asked, but he too was abnormally tense, his back straight and his fist clenched instead of effecting his usual comfortable sprawl.

Aziraphale huffed and sat in his favorite chair, trying to calm himself. "I just still have this bad feeling. And this storm hasn't let up for three days now."

"Ngk," Crowley grunted. "It rains all the time in London, angel. You should be used to it."

The phone rang and both angel and demon were nearly startled out of their seats. Aziraphale huffed, annoyed at himself as he got up and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Mr. Fell, it's Linda Carlisle—I'm Emily's mother."

"Oh, Mrs. Carlisle, yes, and how is she doing?" Aziraphale asked with a small smile, recognizing the women whose daughter he and Crowley had saved the other day.

Crowley got up at the mention of the name and edged around, leaning in to listen to the call with Aziraphale as the angel tilted the receiver away from his ear slightly so they could both hear.

"Well…" her voice wavered, putting Aziraphale instantly on the alert. "Um…she's been k-kidnapped."

"What?!" Crowley demanded, snatching the phone from Aziraphale as the angel's heart fell into his stomach. "This is Crowley, Mrs. Carlisle. When did this happen? Who took her?"

"Calm down, Crowley," Aziraphale chided as he took the phone back. "Please, Mrs. Carlisle, if you can tell us anything?"

"I don't know," she sobbed. "She was gone when I woke up this morning. The police think she ran away, because some of her classmates have also gone missing…"

"Wait, more of the children who were on the bus?" Crowley queried, meeting Aziraphale's eyes meaningfully.

Mrs. Carlisle sniffed. "Yes. It's just awful. This might sound silly but… it's made me wonder if it wasn't an accident. I…we're just all so worried, and the police won't do anything useful. I know about you two, Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley, that you help people. Please, find my daughter and the other children. I know they didn't just all run away. You have to believe me!"

"Of course, a mother's intuition is always to be trusted," Aziraphale said gently. "I too fear that this was no accident, but I do promise that we will bring Emily and the others back. Wherever they have been taken.

"Oh, thank you," Mrs. Carlisle breathed in relief. "Both of you."

"We'll keep you up to date," Aziraphale assured her, then carefully placed the receiver back in its cradle.

Crowley was already pacing, agitation practically wafting off of him. "This is very bad," he muttered.

"Indeed," Aziraphale said and went over to his desk, plucking his sword from its rack on the wall above it. "And we need to get to the bottom of this now. If these are the same forces responsible for the crash, then we may have very little time to find those children alive."

Crowley gritted his teeth and grabbed his coat, slinging it on before grabbing his keys and following Aziraphale out of the shop.

"Where?" he demanded.

Aziraphale didn't really hear him, instead, he had halted just outside the door, feeling a strange prickling sensation on his skin, and in his currently invisible feathers. A slight static, that had nothing to do with the lightning from the storm. A shiver went down his spine. The power that he had felt collecting the last few days seemed to be culminated in one spot now.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley cried as if he had already said his name several times without response.

Aziraphale shook himself. "Do you have a map in your car?"

"Yeah, but…"

Aziraphale was already heading to where the Bentley was parked, snapping his fingers to get inside and throwing his sword into the backseat before he reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a driving atlas of London and surrounding areas.

Crowley watched him with curiosity as Aziraphale set the book on the car's bonnet and hovered his hand over it, closing his eyes.

"Let's see," he murmured and the pages began to shuffle, the book flipping through itself, before it stopped on one page in particular.

Aziraphale stabbed it with a finger and opened his eyes, glancing down at the spot his finger rested.

"There," he said decisively. "There's a huge amount of energy concentrated here."

Crowley nodded, obviously also having noticed it. "Get in, angel."

Aziraphale ran around the car with the atlas in his hand and slid in. Crowley pulled out onto the road and slammed his foot into the gas pedal, driving off into the direction Aziraphale's senses had pointed them.

They drove in tense silence, Aziraphale watching the wipers dash raindrops across the windscreen in front of him.

It was a long time before Crowley inhaled and started to speak hesitantly. "Aziraphale?"

"Hm?" the angel murmured, slightly distracted.

Crowley glanced over at him, and the seriousness pouring off of him brought Aziraphale around, turning to his friend. "What is it Crowley?"

The demon's face was pale and his lips were pressed into a thin, bloodless line. "What if…" He stopped and then started again. "Have you considered that maybe this time it really is God calling the shots? That this actually is the Ineffable Plan coming to fruition?"

Aziraphale stared at him, breath catching in his throat. "I…I…" he didn't know what to say, completely speechless.

Crowley didn't say anything else either, simply turned back to the road and Aziraphale snapped his mouth shut.

The thought didn't really bear thinking about.

They finally reached the location Aziraphale had named, parking on the street at the end of the walkway and as they stared at their destination, there was no doubt this was the place.

"It's practically oozing energy," Crowley said, raising a hand as if to shield his eyes. "Just can't seem to tell whether it's Heavenly or Infernal."

"Does it matter?" Aziraphale asked a bit sharply. "We're saving those children either way, Crowley."

"I'm not arguing with that," Crowley agreed. "Just wondering if we're going to have a better plan than simply barging in the front door?"

"Do you have one?" Aziraphale inquired, genuinely curious.

Crowley wrinkled his nose. "Not really." He leaned across Aziraphale to open his glove compartment and pull out a pistol he usually carried when they went on cases just in case. "Frankly, I don't think it's really going to matter what we do in this case."

"So you're thinking the same thing I am," Aziraphale said grimly.

"That it's a trap? Come on, angel, of course it is," Crowley said, tucking the gun into his coat and getting out of the car. "Hasn't stopped us before."

Aziraphale nodded, feeling better that at least he had Crowley at his side. He grabbed his sword and got out of the car, the two of them standing at the edge of the walkway, staring at the seemingly unassuming house in front of them.

"There's really only one way to beat a trap," Crowley said.

"Walk right in," Aziraphale added with resignation and they proceeded up the walkway, shoulder to shoulder.

Aziraphale drew his sword and Crowley had his gun in hand as they made it to the door. They glanced at each other, and with a nod, Crowley stepped forward to kick in the door.

They stepped inside.

The door swung shut behind them with an ominous _clunk._

They both stared in awe and horror at what appeared in front of them.

"It's…it's like an M. C. Escher painting," Aziraphale said, swallowing hard as he glanced at the incomprehensible vastness that spread out in front of them. Vast, vaulted ceilings of multiple floors, seemingly hundreds of flights of stairs, and dark passages, and mirrored halls, like some labyrinthine maze.

"But…how?" Crowley demanded. "You saw the outside, no way could any of this fit in here. It's…it's bigger here on the inside."

"Yes, and I think it's possibly some sort of pocket dimension, an illusion. But I can't seem to see through it. Whoever made this is very powerful."

"How are we doing this?" Crowley asked, looking overwhelmed.

"Staying together for one," Aziraphale said firmly. "We have no idea what awaits us here or how long it will take us to find the children, but we need to stay alert."

Crowley nodded a little shakily and looked around. "Where do we start?"

Aziraphale shrugged helplessly. "Anywhere. I can't sense the children past the energy this place is putting off. We'll be blind, but there's nothing else for it."

Crowley cursed under his breath but they started off, choosing one of the staircases that seemed closest. Once they started up it, however, it seemed to be far longer than they had anticipated, and it opened into a long corridor that had multiple off-shoots.

Every passage and turn was like that in this place. By the tenth direction change, Aziraphale and Crowley were already completely turned around, unsure if they would ever be able to find their way back to the entrance—providing that same rout even still existed. It seemed to Aziraphale that a lot of the paths changed the instant he and Crowley stepped off of them, a hallway turning into a flight of stairs, a staircase pointing up instead of down, or vice versa. This was a complex illusion that had been tailored almost obsessively. Whoever had set this up had known what they were doing and the thought put a pit in Aziraphale's stomach.

He tried not to think of Crowley's words from earlier. Was it possible all of this truly was part of the Ineffable Plan? And that getting in the way now was not only going against Heaven but against God? Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with that thought, but still. Until he knew differently, he was going to save the children. It was always better to err on the side of caution, especially when lives were at stake.

His dark thoughts nearly cost him as Crowley stopped in front of him, staring into a new portion of the labyrinth.

"What is it?" Aziraphale asked, gazing past his shoulder.

He inhaled sharply. The way ahead of them was all mirrors. Thousands and thousands of them, all different shapes and sizes, set in all different angles, reflecting back on themselves infinite times.

"Let's turn around, find another…" Crowley trailed off as he turned.

Aziraphale glanced around to see what he was looking at and, to his horror, the way they had just come through had turned into a dead end, nothing but a solid wall where a passage used to be.

"Fantastic," Crowley growled.

"There's nothing for it, then," Aziraphale said and turned back around toward the hall of mirrors.

Crowley grabbed his arm. "Angel, we're just getting funneled to the spot they want us, you know that, right?"

"And yet I don't think we can do anything about it," Aziraphale replied, feeling his friend's helplessness, but knowing it was more important than ever to keep their heads right now. "We'll stay together, and make it through this, Crowley."

The demon's jaw tightened, but he nodded.

Aziraphale straightened his shoulders and they stepped into the hall together.

They were instantly greeted by thousands of reflections of themselves. Now that they were fully in the room, the effect was almost dizzying, the images seeming to swirl like a kaleidoscope.

Crowley grunted, ripping his sunglasses off of his face. "This is insane! We have to get out of here! There's no way we'll ever get through this."

But the passage they had come through was already gone, swallowed by only more mirrors.

Aziraphale reached out and took Crowley's hand, ignoring the demon's confused inquiry.

"Just stay with me," Aziraphale told him, trying to reassure his friend. "We need to try and not get separated."

"Easier said than done," Crowley muttered as they stepped forward.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and for a while they were fine, aside from running into a few mirrors and feeling the dizziness and sense of vertigo that spread from the thousands of angles the room created, angles that should have been impossible by any natural law of physics.

It wasn't until Aziraphale felt Crowley's fingers slip from his, almost as if they had turned to smoke, that he began to feel true panic though.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley called in shock, and Aziraphale realized he hadn't let go on purpose.

"Crowley!" he cried, trying to regain his grip on his friend's hand, reaching out for Crowley's flailing hand.

All he felt was his hand striking a cold surface.

To his horror, the Crowley he was looking at was only a reflection. Aziraphale spun around to the spot Crowley should be reflecting from, but saw only himself. When he spun back around, Crowley's reflection was no longer there.

"Crowley!" he cried.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley's reflection flickered briefly before disappearing again.

"Where are you?" Aziraphale cried, then closed his eyes, trying to listen for his friend instead, knowing his eyes would only betray him here.

"I'm here!"

But to his growing terror, even sound was distorted in this wretched place, echoing all over, bouncing around like the reflections on the mirrors. Aziraphale tore his eyes open again, spinning around, but his brief moment of blindness had caused Crowley to disappear completely.

"Crowley!" he screamed.

No answer but his own echo this time.

Aziraphale started running, smashing into a mirror and nearly collapsing, tasting blood on his lip. He got up and continued. "Crowley! Please answer me! Where are you?"

But it seemed fruitless. Aziraphale began to feel the despair creep into him as he fought back the panic. He slammed into another mirror and cursed, this time simply pulling out his sword and using the hilt to smash though the glass barring his way

It shattered in thousands of tinkling shards, forcing him to cover his face. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the mountains, delayed and deafening.

Instead of stopping he turned with a desperate cry and smashed another mirror and another and another until the sounds of shattering glass thundered in his ears, and a thousand broken reflections of himself danced around him as they fell to the ground.

Then finally behind one mirror, there was nothing.

Aziraphale stopped, panting, as he looked through the spot he had broken and saw darkness behind it.

He kicked more of the glass away and stepped inside, raising his sword as he went.

The passage was pitch black and he used the light of his halo so he could see. His breathing seemed extremely loud in his own ears, and he had no idea where he was going or what might be ahead of him, but he felt like, somehow, he was breaking through the illusion.

"Well, well, well, look at this. A little birdy has flown into our trap."

Aziraphale spun around and brandished his sword at the leering figure.

"Hastur," he breathed.

"That's right," the demon grinned.

"So, it was you who took the children," Aziraphale said, thrusting his sword close to the demon.

"Oh, there's so much more to it than that," Hastur chuckled, the sound nasty and grating in the darkness. "But you'll see soon enough."

"Not if I kill you," Aziraphale growled, and was quite ready to do it too, quite finished with these games, when an iron grip latched around his wrist, staying his hand.

"I'm not working alone," Hastur smirked. "Perhaps you know Kushiel?"

Aziraphale spun around and saw the hard-featured angel who was gripping his wrist tightly, glowering darkly at him. Aziraphale swallowed hard. Kushiel was one of the angels who doled out punishment in Heaven, and he knew he was not to be messed with.

Aziraphale gasped as Kushiel twisted his wrist and forced the sword from his hand. It clattered to the ground and Hastur reached to pick it up.

"We have lots of plans for you, little pigeon. Lots of plans."

Kushiel slammed Aziraphale face-first into the wall and wrenched his arms behind his back before cuffing them with manacles that could hold an angel. Aziraphale struggled, but it did little good in the torturer's iron grip.

"Let's go, it's almost time," Hastur said.

Aziraphale was dragged along and all the time he hoped that Crowley was still free and would be able to find the children before whatever plan that could have brought Heaven and Hell together was enacted.

The only comfort he had so far was that, with the inclusion of Hell, he was pretty sure that God was not involved. But that was a small comfort indeed when he had no idea what was coming.

Aziraphale expected it to take long enough to get him somewhere that he would have time to figure out what to do, but instead, Kushiel and Hastur simply marched him down the dark hallway and through a door to their destination, only lending evidence to the theory that this whole place was obviously just a very elaborate illusion.

Aziraphale's heart fluttered in his chest as he saw where they had taken him.

It was a large, dimly lit room, with two cages. One sat on the far side of the room and contained the children, the other, was the one they pushed Aziraphale into.

Aziraphale stumbled as he was shoved into the small cell, falling hard to his knees, but he scrambled to his feet again and pressed against the far side of the cage. There were all the missing children, including Emily, sitting huddled together, frightened, in the cell, and on the door…

"Oh," Aziraphale breathed as he saw the contraption with a timer on it, steadily counting down. "Oh, dear, oh my. Listen!" he called out to the children. "Don't worry about anything! We'll have you out of there, I promise!"

The kids didn't react and Hastur gave a cold chuckle.

"They can't see or hear you while you're in here. But as you can see, you got here just in time."

"What is the meaning of this?" Aziraphale demanded, clenching his fists. "Please, just let them go! They've done nothing!"

Kushiel punched him hard in the stomach and Aziraphale folded with a soft cry. The angel and Hastur then both grabbed him and shoved him back against a post in the middle of the cell. His hands were yanked above his head and the manacles hooked over something there. Aziraphale was purposefully faced toward the rest of the room and the cell the children were in and he could only feel like everything about this situation had just gone from bad to worse.

Kushiel reached up to grab his hand, and to Aziraphale's annoyance, started to work the small gold ring that he always wore off of his pinky.

"Excuse me! What are you doing with that?" Aziraphale demanded.

"Good job, it looks like everything is running to plan."

Aziraphale whipped his head around and saw Gabriel and Sandalphon walking into the cell.

"You," Aziraphale huffed. "I should have known you were behind this."

Gabriel gave him a baleful look. "Don't act coy, Aziraphale, you're not the hero here. In fact, you've interfered for the last time."

"But why? What is the meaning of all this?" Aziraphale demanded. "At least tell me that much if you're going to kill me anyway."

Sandalphon scoffed at that, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"You mean you really didn't know? You expect me to believe that?"

Aziraphale stared at him. "Why the children, Gabriel? Why do you want them dead?"

"Because they're destined to stop the next world war," the archangel snapped. "And certain things need to happen to get the next, true Armageddon underway."

Aziraphale felt himself go white, a cold sweat breaking out over his back. He had no answer to this, only that it was what he and Crowley had feared all along. Still, knowing it for certain made it only a thousand times worse.

"It's time, Sandalphon," Gabriel spoke to the other angel. "He'll be here soon."

Sandalphon smirked nastily. "This is the only time it would please me to take this form."

Aziraphale watched in mounting horror as Sandalphon's form changed, until the captive angel was looking at a mirror of… _himself!_

His breath caught in his throat, considering the implications of this—all of which were very, very bad.

Kushiel handed him the ring he'd stolen from Aziraphale.

"Ah," Sandalphon said, working it onto his finger. "The final touch to make this the most convincing fake I possibly can."

"It is all in the details, as they say," Gabriel agreed.

Hearing his own voice out of Sandalphon's mouth made Aziraphale shudder.

"Details indeed." Sandalphon stepped back and held up a finger. "And on that topic, I almost forgot the finishing touches." He snapped his fingers and he was suddenly covered in blood, his clothing disheveled, with multiple horrific injuries visible.

"Oh, very good, Sandalphon, that is quite convincing," Gabriel praised.

Hastur snickered, delighted. "I don't think our little snake will be able to resist this, will he?"

Aziraphale felt cold as he watched all of this. Crowley…they were setting a trap for Crowley! But, surely, he would know…even with the admittedly rather convincing disguise. Aziraphale was sure Crowley would know it wasn't really him.

Gabriel turned to the shuddering, captive angel, and tilted his head back until he was looking down his nose at Aziraphale. "You're finally going to get what's coming to you, Aziraphale. You and your demon pal."

Then he strode out of the cell with Hastur and Kushiel leading Sandalphon in his disguise.

Aziraphale took a shuddering breath as they left, and strained against his restraints. But it was no use. He was held fast.

"Please, please, be okay, Crowley," he pleaded, and then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He started to pray hesitantly instead.

"Please…if…if this truly is Your will then I will stand down. But please let Crowley get out of here alive. That's all I ask. And if it's not Your will, then, well, give me the strength to do what has to be done."

He felt a little better after that. At least it was all he could do now.

He just had to have faith, but frankly, he'd never been more terrified with that thought in his life.

_~~~~~~~_

_Crowley panicked_ the instant he felt Aziraphale's hand slipping from his. He'd thought he had been holding on, but it seemed like one minute he was and the next he was inexplicably letting go. He could hear the angel for a few seconds after, and the panic in his voice made Crowley even more desperate, but soon he echoed away and Crowley was alone.

"Aziraphale!" he screamed, tearing through the mirrored passages willy-nilly, paying no attention to which way he was turning when. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, this whole place was incomprehensible, playing by no ordinary rules.

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Crowley snarled as he found himself trapped at a dead end, images of himself magnified and swirling around him. With a roar, he finally reached into his coat for his gun and emptied the entire clip into the mirrors in front of him.

Glass shattered, and fell all around him like rain, and along with it, part of the illusion. He quickly sheltered his eyes from the falling glass, and when he looked back around he saw darkness beyond the shattered mirrors.

Curious, Crowley edged forward, ducking his head through a hole and slamming the butt of the gun against the rest of the glass to open the way further. He slipped inside, and slipped his sunglasses down his nose to better see.

It was a long hallway, but this one already seemed different than all the others he and Aziraphale had crossed through. There was no underlying feeling of confusion here. It seemed he was back through the looking glass, and the irony of where he'd just come from didn't escape him.

He smirked. He seemed to have just found the weakness to this illusion. Now that he had, he hoped it would be easier to find Aziraphale. Perhaps the angel had also found this, or a similar passage.

He continued on until he saw a door up ahead. He pressed his ear to it first, listening, then cautiously opened it and stepped out into another room.

Two things caught his eye simultaneously. First a cage at the far side, where he could see the children, huddled inside, and what looked to be some sort of timed detonation device on the door to the cell.

And then not too far away, was a very familiar figure sagging and chained to a pillar, seemingly unconscious, blood covering his torn clothing.

"Angel," Crowley croaked, and rushed forward.

_~~~~~~~_

_Aziraphale could only_ watch, helpless, as Crowley appeared out of a side door and instantly spotted Sandalphon in his disguise where he had been undoubtedly strategically placed for that very reason.

"Crowley! Don't! It's not me! It's a trap! Please!" he screamed to no avail.

He could only witness what was happening now as Crowley ran to what he assumed was his friend, and thus stepped right into Heaven and Hell's trap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here is the conclusion! Hope you guys all enjoy!
> 
> Also, a character shows up in this chapter that was from my story "Good Deep Down". You don't need to read that first, but if you're confused about the random backstory, it's in reference to that fic ^_^

"Angel!" Crowley cried, terror welling in his throat as he spotted his dear friend chained to the pole, covered in blood and horrible injuries. "Aziraphale!"

The angel's head lifted weakly as Crowley skidded to a halt in front of him, cupping his face gently, trying his best to take care with the cuts and bruises littering his friend's skin.

"Cro-Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, a weak cough escaping his throat. Blue eyes opened and were dull with pain. "Th-the children…"

Crowley gritted his teeth, but he turned to see the kids in the cage, watching the scene in front of them with horror. He swallowed hard as he also saw the detonation device hooked to the cage the kids were being kept in. It was set to go off in about twenty minutes.

Cursing under his breath, he left Aziraphale chained to the post for the moment and turned to see what he could do about the bomb.

"Emily?" he called.

A little brunet girl looked up at him, climbing to her knees as she gripped the bars.

"I remember you," she said softly. "And your friend." Her eyes flicked to Aziraphale's battered figure worriedly. "You saved us before, in the bus accident."

Crowley nodded eagerly. "Yes, and I'm going to save you again, just hold on a minute."

Before he could inspect the device further, one of the kids pointed and screamed.

"Watch out!" Emily cried.

Crowley spun around just in time to see Hastur leaping at his back. He didn't have time to react and the other demon bore him to the ground, where Crowley felt the wind get knocked out of him.

Hastur leveled a heavy punch to his jaw and Crowley growled, getting one foot up between them and slamming it into Hastur's stomach, throwing him off and into the side of the cage.

Crowley was back up on his feet in a second, Hastur a little slower. Too slow, since Crowley had already pulled his pistol from his coat and shot Hastur twice.

The demon gasped and gurgled as he collapsed on the ground.

Crowley spat some blood, as he replaced his gun into the back of his belt and stepped forward. The bullets wouldn't keep Hastur down for long, he knew, but hopefully it would be long enough.

Quickly, Crowley hurried to Aziraphale, snapping his fingers to release the cuffs, not even thinking in that moment about how easy they were to open. He caught the angel as he slumped to the ground, lowering him down gently.

"Hold on, angel," he whispered before turning back to Hastur, and locking him in Aziraphale's place.

That task done, he was back at Aziraphale's side in an instant, pulling the angel into his arms.

"Crowley," Aziraphale murmured, eyes half open, groping for Crowley with one hand.

The demon grasped the searching fingers, running his thumb soothingly over the gold ring Aziraphale always wore.

"Shh, just stay still. Bless it, angel, you look terrible."

He started to peel open Aziraphale's shirt to see to his injuries, in the hopes of at least stopping the blood flow before he returned to figuring out how to get the children out of the cage.

"Crowley," Aziraphale swallowed hard. "The kids…they're…they're destined to stop it."

Crowley froze, cocking his head to one side. "Stop what, angel?"

"Armageddon," Aziraphale whispered hoarsely.

Crowley's blood ran cold and he glanced toward the children, missing the strange smirk that pulled up one side of Aziraphale's mouth. They'd suspected something, yes, and yet…he'd never imagined _this_. However, it all made sense now. It made all too much sense for his liking.

He swallowed hard, trying to turn his focus back to his injured friend.

"Just a second, alright? You'll be fine soon enough. Just…"

Something hot burned through his middle, and at first, he had no idea what had happened. Even when he looked down and _saw_ what had happened, his mind refused to process it.

In Aziraphale's hand was a small blade of shimmering angelic steel. It was a holy blade, burning through Crowley's very soul where it was buried in his gut.

One of the kids screamed again but he barely heard it. His eyes traveled up the familiar hand to the even more familiar face, that no longer held the light of his angel. Aziraphale's features were twisted into something like self-satisfied enjoyment.

"Az-Azira—" Crowley choked out as blood spilled from his mouth.

The wounds and blood seemed to disappear from Aziraphale at the same time Crowley's blood flowed out of him. The angel sat up and with a twist of the knife, Crowley gasped out in unimaginable agony, as this horrid being wearing his friend's face pulled him close.

But the physical agony was nothing compared to the words that accompanied the wound. Aziraphale leaned in close, holding Crowley upright, as he whispered into his ear. "An enemy and a friend can wear the same face, snake. Remember that."

Then, with almost mocking gentleness, he laid Crowley down on the ground before he stood and turned to the cage with the children and snapped his fingers. The timer on the bomb went from fifteen minutes to thirty seconds.

Aziraphale, or whatever this was, sneered. "You should have stuck with your own side, Crowley. It probably wouldn't have ended so badly for you. After all, how could a disgusting creature like you ever dare to think he could be redeemed?"

"Azira—" Crowley whimpered, trying to get up, then choked on more blood, collapsing and curling up on the ground.

He had no idea what was going on, prayed it was just another cruel illusion and that his dearest friend hadn't really just betrayed him. No, he was certain of it; that could never have been Aziraphale, and yet…

And yet, what did it matter? He was dead now anyway.

But…

The children didn't have to die. He could use what strength he had left. If he could find any strength left in him, he could use it to stop the bomb.

He closed his eyes and dragged himself to his knees, crying out as he felt the dagger shift in his insides. He reached out, summoning what was left of his power.

"Stay back," he gritted at the kids.

They all huddled to one side of the cage and Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily as he forced everything he had left into one miracle.

One last demonic miracle.

He prayed it would work.

_~~~~~~~~_

_Aziraphale screamed_ as he saw Sandalphon pulling a dagger from his clothes as Crowley tended to his 'injuries' completely unsuspecting—and why should he suspect anything? He thought he was tending to his friend.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale cried, begging Crowley to somehow hear him, to see what was about to happen.

"He can't hear you," Kushiel commented blandly from where he stood in one corner of the cell.

"I know that, you bastard!" Aziraphale snapped, yanking at his chains so hard his wrists began to bleed. With mounting terror, he watched, helpless, as Sandalphon shoved the holy blade into Crowley's stomach.

"No!" Aziraphale screamed.

Crowley looked so confused at first, then the utter look of betrayal that crossed his face nearly ripped Aziraphale apart. Helpless tears slid down his cheeks.

Gabriel was in the cell too, watching with satisfaction.

"Are you happy now?" Aziraphale demanded. "Was this all part of your disgusting plan?"

The archangel, to Aziraphale's surprise, didn't really look pleased with himself, just resolute. "It may surprise you but I didn't really want it to have to end this way, Aziraphale. But…well, you two have proven yourself far too meddlesome. You just had to go."

His indifference almost made it worse. Aziraphale watched, horrified and disgusted, as Sandalphon gently laid Crowley down on the ground, then snapped his fingers toward the bomb.

Aziraphale stiffened as the timer went down significantly.

Gabriel turned around and nodded to Kushiel. "Let's go."

Just as they started out, Aziraphale caught sight of Cowley hauling himself to his knees, grabbing the bars of the cage to steady himself. Kushiel stopped and pointed.

"My lord, look!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale breathed, tears in his eyes as he realized what his brave friend was doing. Giving his last ounce of strength to save the children.

Gabriel's brow furrowed as there was a bright flash of light and the explosive device turned off before the door swung open. Crowley collapsed and Aziraphale felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched anxiously for any rise and fall of Crowley's chest.

"My lord…" Kushiel inquired, stepping forward as if to do something.

"It doesn't matter," Gabriel said. "We have plenty of contingencies." His eyes met Aziraphale's with a small smirk. "Your friend stopped nothing."

Sandalphon came back into the cell, in his real form again, eyes hard. "Well, that didn't go entirely to plan."

"No, but they'll soon realize this is only a false hope." Gabriel watched as the children filed out of the cage, and Emily stopped right beside Crowley, leaning over him. Aziraphale ached to be with his friend, see if he was alright. Or if…

Sandalphon came over to Aziraphale, a satisfied look on his face. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Aziraphale glowered at him as darkly as he could. "You disgust me. You should be ashamed. Such deception makes you no better than a fiend of Hell!"

Sandalphon smirked. "Bold words, coming from you, Aziraphale." He raised the hand with the ring on it to his lips, kissing the ring mockingly before he took it off and dropped it into Aziraphale's waistcoat pocket, patting the spot almost jauntily.

"What should I do with him?" Kushiel asked.

Gabriel considered this for a moment. "Unchain him. Let him say goodbye to his only friend."

The tone in his voice told Aziraphale he had no reason to be grateful, but he still was. If they were all going to die anyway, he would much rather do it by Crowley's side.

Sandalphon gave a nasty smirk. "I suppose that's fair. After all, the demon will die thinking it was by your hand."

The words cut deep and Aziraphale turned his glower onto the angel. "You truly are a despicable being, Sandalphon."

He winced as the manacles were unlocked from around his raw wrists, and he didn't wait for them to escort him out of the cell, simply burst out and hurried to Crowley's side.

The children were huddled together, looking scared and like they had no idea what to do. They looked with wide eyes at Aziraphale, cowering away from him slightly, and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Go see if you can find a way out of here, quickly!" he said before turning back to Crowley. Emily was the only one who had gone to the demon and Aziraphale could hear her as he approached.

"Please, Mr. Crowley! You have to get up! We need to get out of here."

Aziraphale hurried over and was shocked to see the little girl glower at him, positioning herself almost protectively over Crowley's prone form.

"Emily," Aziraphale called.

"Stay away from him!" she snapped. "You already hurt him!"

Aziraphale crouched on Crowley's other side as the girl started to slide the demon away from him, yanking at his clothes and tugging on the dagger still stuck into Crowley. The demon groaned.

Aziraphale held out a hand. "Emily, please, you don't understand what's going on."

"You st-stabbed him!" she cried.

Aziraphale felt his throat clench with pain and desperation. "Emily that wasn't me, it was one of our enemies disguised as me. They did that on purpose, do you understand?"

Her lower lip started trembling. She was a brave girl, Aziraphale could tell, but she was also just a child and she had been through more than she ever should have.

He leaned in close. "You need to take your friends and run, okay? I trust you to get them out."

"But what about you?" Emily asked quietly.

Aziraphale simply smiled at her encouragingly. If he could hold Gabriel and the others off, and let the children escape than maybe this whole mission wouldn't all be in vain after all. "Just go," he said quietly.

Emily nodded, and finally slid back, allowing Aziraphale to kneel beside his friend.

"Oh, Crowley," he choked out, reaching out hesitantly to see what he could do. He had to get the dagger out first, it was doing more damage than anything while still stuck in him.

He reached out slowly to pull the dagger out and Crowley's eyes flew open with a cry.

"Sssstay away," he hissed hoarsely, trying to scramble to one side. Emily reached out and grabbed his hand again.

Aziraphale ignored him even though Crowley's words went straight to his heart, and swiftly pulled the dagger out as Crowley's body arched in pain. He threw the wretched thing away and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, using it in a poor attempt to stop the flow of blood. It was a Heavenly dagger so he could not heal it.

"Don't…" Crowley choked, and blood dribbled from his mouth.

"Crowley, please," Aziraphale whispered, reaching out to gently stroke the demon's hair, hating how his friend tensed under his ministrations. "Crowley, my dear, it's me." He pressed against the wound and Crowley curled up with a gurgle of agony. Aziraphale gathered him into his arms.

"You know I would never do this to you. It was only Sandalphon pretending to be me. To tear us apart at the…at the end of things. You know how spiteful they are."

Crowley's tight jaw and paler-than-usual skin told of his agony, but he shuddered in Aziraphale's grasp. Aziraphale felt the demon's blood seeping through his fingers at an alarming pace and he swallowed hard. If he didn't do something, he was going to lose his friend, and losing him with Crowley thinking he had betrayed him…he may as well die too if that happened because he certainly wouldn't want to go on living.

"Please Crowley," he whispered brokenly. "You have to know its me."

The demon's eyes flicked open. He'd lost his glasses at some point, and so Aziraphale could clearly see them, the golden serpentine pupils clouded with pain. He reached up to gently cup Crowley's cheek and this time, the demon didn't flinch away from him.

"You know it's me," Aziraphale whispered, forcing a small, encouraging smile. "It's—it's all going to be tickety-boo. You'll see."

That relaxed Crowley as Aziraphale had hoped it would, the demon knowing that only the _real_ Aziraphale could say that 'insufferable phrase' as Crowley had called it once.

The demon's hand reached up to clutch at Aziraphale's coat, but he couldn't seem to talk when he opened his mouth, only more blood slipping out.

"Shh," Aziraphale whispered, stroking his brow. "Don't try to talk, I know. Just rest, Crowley."

He heard footsteps behind him and Gabriel, Sandalphon and Hastur appeared, watching the scene with some sense of deep satisfaction that made Aziraphale furious. He pulled Crowley closer to him, protectively.

"I hope you've said your goodbyes, because this is it. Come on," Gabriel told the others.

Aziraphale was about to stand up, do anything he could to stop them, but that was when the ground underneath them started rumbling.

The children screamed, and even Gabriel and the others looked confused about what was going on, so Aziraphale had a feeling this was not part of their plan.

"What…?" Gabriel demanded before they were all accosted with a blinding light that forced even the angels to cover their eyes.

When it lifted, a haloed figure stood in the middle of the room, wings unfurled so that they almost reached both walls.

As the light faded a little more, revealing the angel's countenance, Aziraphale gasped, as startled recognition overcame him.

"Zadkiel?" he asked.

The angel looked down at him and a small smile appeared on his lips, along with a nod. The glow engulfing him was coming from a pendant around his neck, glowing with the brightest starlight.

"Y-you're an angel again," Aziraphale breathed. "How?"

Zadkiel had been a friend of his and Crowley's. He'd been an angel turned human in punishment for falling in love with a human woman and siring a daughter. Crowley had saved his daughter Abigail's life, and the four of them had been good friends until Zadkiel had passed away a few years back after living a long, human life. But how had he become an angel again?

Zadkiel ignored Aziraphale's question, but a small, knowing smile appeared on his lips. "There's no time now to explain." He stepped forward and gazed down at Crowley cradled in Aziraphale's arms, a sorrowful look crossing his face. Aziraphale held his dying friend tighter.

"Please, is there anything…?" he trailed off, voice tightening, not quite feeling brave enough at the moment to even dare ask.

Zadkiel nodded. "There is one thing. There is a place in Heaven, the Fields of Gold. You know it? You must take Crowley there."

Aziraphale was shocked to hear this. He sputtered. "But…that place is forbidden to angels!" The last thing he wanted was to have false hope before they were killed anyway.

"It will be all right," Zadkiel assured him. He reached up and took off the pendant he was wearing, before bending and slipping it over Aziraphale's head where it rested against his chest, a misplaced star. "This will guide your way. Once there, you must allow the starlight to cover his body completely until he is whole again."

Aziraphale glanced over to the huddled children. "But the children…"

"I will see to it that they are brought home safely, Zadkiel assured him. "They will remember none of this. But time is running out for Crowley. You must go now."

He turned away from Aziraphale then, his kind expression replaced by a hard one. "You are wanted by the Metatron," he told Gabriel and the other angels.

"Excuse me, but—"Gabriel started.

"Immediately," Zadkiel snapped.

Gabriel looked furious, but there was little he could do. He and the other angels took flight.

Zadkiel looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale. "Go."

Aziraphale wasted no more time. He spread his wings and flew upwards toward the Heavens. As he went, he watched as the building crumbled, the illusion failing, and the demons all fleeing for their lives back to Hell.

Crowley was heavy in Aziraphale's arms, completely unconscious now. There was only a small spark left in him to tell the angel his friend was even now still alive. He had to go quickly.

The star pendant guided him in the right direction, up above even Heaven itself to the sacred place of healing that resided above the Eastern Gate of Heaven. Aziraphale really had no time to think about what he was doing right now. His only thought was to save his friend.

Finally, he reached the place, and a feeling of calm washed over him instantly upon landing. Aziraphale fell to his knees, cradling Crowley in his arms and used his wings to shelter them both.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, but it seemed he didn't have to worry about that after all. Only a few seconds after he settled, the golden grasses that were swaying in an unfelt wind began to glow, and thousands of tiny stars rose from out of the fields and gathered to settle over Crowley, eventually covering him from head to toe.

Aziraphale watched in awe as his friend's body was lit with the glittering starlight, concentrating around the wound in his middle.

There was nothing Aziraphale could do now but wait and have faith.

_~~~~~~~_

_Crowley felt like_ he was drowning. But…no, that wasn't quite right. He was choking on something. There was a metallic taste in the back of his throat, and it felt like all he could do to draw a breath into his lungs.

_Crowley_.

Someone was calling his name. It sounded far away, like the way sound travels through water. _Aziraphale?_ He wondered. It must be his friend; the angel had been the last thing he saw before…before _what_? What even was this?

He could also feel someone cradling him, holding him tenderly almost like a babe. Crowley wasn't sure who this was either, though he was going to guess Aziraphale if it was even happening at all. Or perhaps it was just a dream. Either way it was comforting.

But he was still unable to breathe…until…

Warmth began to settle over him, and somehow it was like a physical thing, manifesting in light like a blanket of stars.

He sighed inwardly, the sensation soothing, easing his hurts. He felt…safe.

He was hallucinating, he thought. It was likely just Aziraphale covering him with his wings, the angel was always so bright, it was the only explanation Crowley could come up with.

But then a sound came to him from far away. A melody trickled into his ears, into his mind, something so familiar it stole his breath.

It was the words of an ancient lullaby that he hadn't heard since…since his…creation? Crowley didn't even know. He just knew this had no connection to Hell, it was, in a way, the very essence of Heaven, and it brought forgotten memories and tears to his eyes to hear it.

And then the drowning sensation returned in earnest and the warmth ingulfing him turned into fire, burning his flesh.

He choked, terror rushing through him before the voice returned.

_Hush, child. All is well._

And suddenly, it was. The sensations washed over Crowley as the beautiful angelic lullaby continued, and hands soothed his hurts, wiping blood from his mouth, healing the ache in his core, the damage of the holy blade.

Yet still, he burned. It reminded him of the Fall all over again, swirling and plummeting to earth, before the ultimate plunge into the fiery pit. But this was not a fire of corruption. This was different, it was healing, not destructive—regenerative. It was almost like…absolution.

The fire and the song wrapped him in light as he felt his body heal, the pureness of it, something he hadn't touched in so, so long, forced sobs to tear from his body at his own realization of what this must be.

Finally, he opened his eyes, and saw a glowing figure hovered over him.

"Mother," he whispered.

He felt, rather than saw, the smile and someone brushed a gentle hand over his forehead.

Crowley felt all the pain fade from him, dissipating like stardust or ashes on the wind. There was only peace left now. But the lullaby continued as he floated in this place out of time, and closed his eyes again, feeling himself slip off into regenerative sleep.

~~~~~~~

" _Crowley?_ Crowley, it's time to wake up."

Crowley heard the familiar voice calling him, but didn't quite want to open his eyes yet. He had the distinct impression that he'd been having a lovely dream, and even now the echo of a nearly forgotten melody played in his head. Soft breeze brushed his cheek, lifting the hair from off his forehead.

"Crowley, you're safe now. Please, I need to see you open your eyes."

It was a voice he could never resist, and so he forced his eyes open.

He was greeted with the light of thousands of stars, covering his body, and emitting a warm luminescence that caused the face of the angel bending over him to glow. Crowley was tucked safely into Aziraphale's arms, the angel's wings curled around him, those, too, decorated with starlight.

Crowley reached up with awe to touch one of the twinkling drops resting in the angel's feathers, wondering if he was still dreaming. This place…he knew it, of course, though he had never thought to see it. He was almost certain he was wrong, and yet there was no mistaking the stars that glittered all around. It must be the Fields of Gold. It was sacred, even by Heavenly standards, for even angels were not permitted to enter. There was only one in particular that knew the way, but he was no longer an angel.

So how could a fallen angel like Crowley be here?

But his dream…he looked down at his hand bathed in starlight, then placed it over his chest. No, not a dream, he realized. At least not all of it. And there was the lullaby that he remembered from so long ago still echoing in his head.

Something had changed inside of him, and he was honestly feeling incredibly overwhelmed. Impulsively, he burrowed further against Aziraphale, burying his face against his friends body his friend's body and gripping him tight, with the need to suddenly hold onto something, anchor himself to someone familiar. He didn't know how they had gotten here, because previously he had been so certain they would all die and start the next Apocalypse, but now everything felt right with the world and relief rushed over him as a few tears slid from his eyes.

He felt Aziraphale's hands rubbing over his back and the angel huffed fondly. "It's all right, dear. You're home now. Everything will be okay."

Crowley sniffed and pushed himself upright, finally pulling himself together. "No, angel," he said. "I'm not home until we're at the bookshop with a strong drink."

Joy and relief spread across Aziraphale's face. The stars began to rise from them like shimmering, upward-falling, raindrops.

The angel laughed. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea."

He helped Crowley to stand as the last of the stars fell from them, and as Aziraphale prepared to miracle them home, Crowley cast one more look around this sacred place.

He smiled as he heard the final strains of that forgotten lullaby on the breeze as the stars settled again.

He'd always thought it should have been called the Field of Starlight instead.

_~~~~~~~_

_The storms had abated_ over London, and everything seemed to be back to normal again, Aziraphale was glad to see. There had been nary a peep from Heaven or Hell. Emily and the other children had been returned to their homes by Zadkiel, remembering nothing of their trauma, and would hopefully be set to live out what destinies they were meant to have without interference.

It had taken a long time and many drinks to explain to Crowley exactly what had happened once they got back to London. Aziraphale had been worried that the incident with Sandalphon would leave its mark, but the hurt from the false betrayal had seemed to heal along with the deadly wound. Aziraphale still couldn't believe what had happened. That he'd actually taken Crowley to the Fields of Gold to be healed and there had been no consequences. And Crowley seemed brighter since, something about him different. Aziraphale didn't ask him what his experience there had been like and he never planned to. It seemed wrong to do so, as if encroaching on someone's privacy.

But today they were walking in St. James Park, and the sun was shining as children ran around, throwing bread to the ducks, and begging their parents to buy them ice cream from the vendors. Aziraphale smiled.

"There he is," Crowley said, nodding over toward the pond.

"Ah," Aziraphale said as they headed in that direction, meeting with the post man who stood, waiting for them with his clipboard.

"You have it?" he asked.

Aziraphale reached into his coat and pulled out the small parcel which contained the pendant that Zadkiel had let him borrow. He handed it to the postman as Zadkiel had instructed them to do, so that it could be returned to him.

Aziraphale signed the man's clipboard and he tipped his hat before he left.

It being such a nice day, Aziraphale and Crowley continued on a stroll around the park.

"Aziraphale," Crowley asked after a few seconds, hands in his pockets. "Do you remember anything back from before the Rebellion? Or even before that? You know, like…when you were only just created?"

Aziraphale was slightly taken aback by the odd question, made even odder because Crowley typically, as a rule, never mentioned anything about the Rebellion. "Well…I can't say I remember much at all, really. Even during the Rebellion, I was rather young…"

Crowley pursed his lips, seeming to consider his next words for a long time before he spoke. "Do you remember a song, a lullaby from the time before everything? When we were all still stars?"

Aziraphale thought this was even more strange, but replied truthfully, "Not really, but…well, memory is rather a strange thing, and so much can fade away even for beings like us after several millennia, I suppose."

Crowley nodded but seemed a little disappointed. Aziraphale watched him, not entirely sure what his friend had going through his head. He'd rarely seen Crowley this thoughtful before, and he wondered briefly just what had happened to him during his healing in the Fields of Gold.

"Do you think," Crowley continued, "that humans have music, love it so much, because it was the first thing they heard? That God sang during the creation of Adam and Eve?" He paused and turned to Aziraphale. "Do you think that God maybe sang to us? Back when there were only angels and the Fall hadn't happened? Sang as an expression of love?"

The thought warmed Aziraphale and he smiled at his friend, even now hearing the birds sing in the trees above, yet another song woven into the world they lived in.

"I can't recall really if Mother ever sang, or any details of the songs if she did," Aziraphale told him truthfully. "But if that is the case, then I am pretty certain that all great masterpieces of music there ever were, would have been created out of a longing to remember those long-forgotten melodies that are woven into our very existence."

Crowley offered a small smile at this and tipped his head back to stare up at the birds, sun shining down on his face.

"You know," Aziraphale said. "I believe there is a symphony playing at the Royal Opera House tonight. Would you like to go? My treat."

Crowley glanced over at him. "I think I'd like that."

"Fantastic," Aziraphale exclaimed. "But right now, it's nearly teatime. I know this lovely little place near here and I know you'll like it…"

The two strode off through the sun as the birds sang their own songs behind them.


End file.
